An Aubade for Sunlight
by Jacquerie's Wish
Summary: When death draws close to a mortal man, a guide will come for him. Fantine came for Jean Valjean, and it is for the children of the barricade that Éponine comes now. Oneshot. Gen.


After so many hours of grape and gunshot and the cries of men, the silence feels strangely light.

In the street, one man still lives. Barely, of course, and not for long, but he stares at the sky throughout the entirety of the dark night, and when the sun pours a wash of light that fills the cracks between the buildings, Combeferre turns his face to feel the warmth of it. The light grows warmer and warmer, unless perhaps he's only growing cold, and by now he feels so far from his body that it hardly matters.

With a tenuous hand he clung to life all through the night, but why go on? They are all dead. And he is too far gone to stay. So he closes his eyes and lets that last airy thread slip from his grasp.

He feels nothing at first, but in the sea of quiet on the street, he hears the sound of footsteps.

She climbs the barricade like a fox, ascending and descending in a few easy steps, her skirts blooming out like a flower when she leaps to the cobbles below. She is something with less form than air, but Combeferre feels her with more reality than anything he has ever known.

_Éponine_, he tries to say, but no words come to his throat.

Her feet are bare, but the blood between the cobblestones does not stain them. She treads among the bodies in the streets, murmuring. Combeferre tries with all his will to listen. She is blessing them and calling them by name, and her voice is sweeter than a bird's but as winsome as a summer moth. What a welcome, to hear that familiar voice, making its bright beckoning call:

_Come with me, where chains will never bind you. All your grief, at last, at last behind you._

The slightest stir of movement ripples through the street, slowly at first as one man sits up, then another. The beams of light from the morning shine through their forms, and these forms rise gingerly to their feet while their bodies remain as still and cold as they were in the night. They are beyond the earth.

Bossuet is the first on his feet, and he greets Joly, who is just awakening. He laughs, rubbing his bleary eyes.

Courfeyrac's leg is missing at the knee; Éponine takes his hands and helps him to stand. They laugh when he takes a great stumbling hop, and he does too.

One by one, each of them rise, with the contented half-wakefulness of one who has just slept a deep, exhausted slumber.

They are on their feet, all of those lying in the street. They gather close to each other, wordless, weary, with great joy.

Éponine draws away, and they watch her go in confusion as she steps easily over the barricade once more and vanishes. There is barely a moment to utter a word before Jehan comes tumbling over the barricade, the hostage returned at last. There are cries of joy as he runs to meet them. Éponine, climbing to stand atop barricade behind him, smiles.

Combeferre is so busy watching them all that he is surprised when he turns to see her standing over him, proffering her hand. _You, too._

He takes her hand and she pulls him to his feet.

The boys are enraptured when he joins them, but there is barely time to comprehend ir when Éponine goes to the doors of the café, and the boys, excited and wakeful now, run after her. They tumble up the stairs, a raucous mess, half-carrying Courfeyrac, knowing immediately where they will go.

They burst through the doors of the second story to find Enjolras already sitting up in the windowsill. They feel, for a moment, that they should be quiet or reverent, but as soon as he is standing before him they run to embrace him, and he receives their affections with a sort of peace Combeferre has never seen in him before. That struggle, that persistent fight and turmoil, finally put to rest, the massive weight of duty lifted from his shoulders in its fulfillment. The fire is quenched, and he is free.

Éponine is standing over Grantaire's silent body, shaking her head fondly. Combeferre worries for a moment, but realization dawns on him; Grantaire believes he is not be able to rise.

She is urging him, calling his name, and the boys join in with growing enthusiasm. Even Enjolras gives a shout, and everyone laughs.

Grantaire sits up and smiles sheepishly. The cheer is enormous.

Everyone has awoken, and Combeferre can see that Éponine is ready. Her call has not ended, and she leads them to the street.

_Take my hand; I'll lead you to salvation._

She takes Enjolras's hands, and Enjolras's Grantaire's, and on and on until they make a chain. Courfeyrac is not able to walk on his own, so Combeferre takes his weight into his side, Courfeyrac's arm over his shoulder, and they walk together.

_Take my love, for love is everlasting._

She leads them through the street, far away from the barricade, from the Musain, from the world they know. Everything around them grows dark as they walk the empty street. For the first time, there is fear, but they stay close and follow Éponine, who remains bright despite all.

_And remember the truth that once was spoken._

As they walk, hurt begins to seep away and strength returns. Combeferre can feel a swell of warmth in his chest, and he knows that his bayonet wounds are disappearing. He looks over when Courfeyrac lets go of his shoulder. His leg is whole. He can walk on his own again.

The dark encompasses them completely.

_To love another person is to see the face of God._

Somewhere in the distance before them, the swell and thrill of a familiar song rises to meet them, drawing ever nearer, and the world ahead is growing bright.

They sense before them the opening of a door, and they are suddenly, overwhelmingly washed in light.


End file.
